22 Years on the Ocean: What It's Given Me
Some things are hard to put into words. Twenty-two years in, I still haven't fully figured out how to explain what it feels like to drop the lines, pull away from the dock, and slowly motor out of the harbor toward the open blue.
But I'll try.
About to jump in to tie up the boat off Olowalu.
There's a moment, every single trip, where you feel the temperature drop a degree or two — land always runs warmer than water, and your body knows the difference before your brain catches up. The salt air hits your nose. Then the wind on your face. Your eyes focus on the sunlight, scattering and bouncing off the surface in a way that never quite looks the same twice. Constantly playing mind games.
Looking below the surface at Molokini Crater.
If the water's clear, the ocean starts showing you its mesmerizing floor — 3D reef structures, colorful fish moving around the coral, maybe a Hawaiian green sea turtle drifting along like it has nowhere to be. And that's the thing about being out here: you genuinely never know what the day is going to show you. Dolphins. Manta rays. Sharks. Seabirds working the surface. Humpback whales, if it's between December and April.
Ever lasting memories with manta rays.
I still remember the first time I saw a manta ray. I was snorkeling off Pu'u Ola'i looking for turtles, when this huge black-and-white shape came flying into view out of nowhere, banking back and forth through the water. I nearly swallowed my snorkel! Some encounters you brace for. That one, I didn't.
A sweet little fly-by encounter from a Hawaiian green sea turtle.
Turtles are the reliable crowd-pleasers — that unmistakable "Finding Nemo" energy, the way they poke their heads up for a breath like they're just checking in on you. But nothing — and I mean nothing — compares to swimming with wild dolphins. You hear them before you see them. Their echolocation clicks and squeaks come at you from all directions, underwater sound doing things it doesn't do on land. And then they appear — gliding through the water with what looks like a permanent smile, looking at you in a way that feels less like an animal noticing a stranger and more like something looking straight at your soul.
Playful dolphins dancing underwater.
Twenty-two years of this, and it still gets me every time.
This is the ocean I get to share with people every day — whether it's a family out for their first Maui fishing trip, or a private charter built around exactly what someone wants to see and do. It's why Maui Fun Charters started, and it's the same reason our sister company, Maui Custom Charters, exists for people who want something a little more tailored to them.
Setting sail onboard our 47’ Leopard catamaran “Artemis.”
I'll go on about this forever if you let me — so consider this part one. There's more to tell: the whale season chaos, the ‘big ones’ that got away, the sunsets that take your breath away. For now, if any of this sounds like the kind of morning you want for yourself, come see it firsthand.
